Brainy and the Beast (30 page)

“But what happened? What’s going on?”

Paulson focused her laser stare on Nestor. “Sir, who are you and what’s your business here?”

Catching her eye, I jerked my head sideways in Nestor’s direction, unobtrusively pointing my finger at the pest. I mouthed
better check him out
to her, and I felt a petty sense of satisfaction when she frowned and stepped over to Gyosa. Boy, that was a tall girl too. She had to be at least four inches taller than Nestor—maybe six feet? Wow. I kind of felt sorry for the little player right about then. Maybe.

Until Henry cleared his throat again. He was staring daggers at Nestor, and something clicked in my lizard brain. “Oh, shit. Now I get it.” I nudged Dr. Love when he didn’t even glance my way. “I said, I get it.”

And if I hadn’t just figured out what was wrong with Henry, I might have been slightly put off by the snotty look on his face.

“What?”

To say he’d bitten off that word would be like saying Niagara Falls had a lot of water.

“You’re jealous.”

Now
he faced me. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He yanked his hands out of his pockets, and his whole posture straightened up. He looked tall and put together—as long as I ignored the bruising on his face. Oh, and he looked mean. “I’m not jealous. To be jealous would mean that I’d have to…to, um, that my feelings were involved.”

I pressed my lips together and deliberately widened my eyes.

“Nicholas.” Now his tone was sounding reasonable.
Ahh. The brainiac at work
. I could suddenly picture him in a meeting, talking to the other eggheads, explaining why he was right and they were wrong. He’d be standing at the front of the room, drawing something smart on the whiteboard.

He snapped his fingers next to my face, and I jerked back instinctively. “What?”

“Honestly. You can’t even stay focused when I’m talking to you about…about your assertion that’s not at all based in fact.”

I shrugged helplessly. “I was kind of picturing you in a meeting, talking to all the other smart guys.”

That stopped him for a second. “You were?” I could see I’d surprised him again. “Why? What was I doing?”

I started to answer him, and he waved me off. “Never mind. What difference does it make?”

“Um, I don’t know. But it kind of makes me hot.”

Now it was Henry’s turn to stand there. “Really.”

I nodded.

He opened his mouth to reply, but there was a sudden flurry of action around us.

Officer Paulson snapped her notebook shut. “That’s it. Thanks. You can go.” She sent Nestor back into the dojang, and I wasn’t at all sorry to see him go. He’d caused enough crap in my life in the very short time since I’d met him again. Jeez.

Then she motioned me over, and I paused next to Henry before obeying. “Doc. Let’s get this finished up and then head home. What do you say?”

“Yes. Yes, that’s a good idea.” He ran a hand through his hair, which didn’t help to straighten it too much. “I…have to go home and feed—”

I pointed my index finger pretty close to his face. “Do not say you have to feed your goddamned fish. Do not.”

He scowled at me. “I-I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Uh-huh.” I ambled toward Paulson, walking backward so I could look at Henry as I spoke. “Just remember. We’re going to do whatever the officer needs us to do. Then we’re going home to talk.”

When he rolled his eyes and huffed out a sigh, he looked a hell of a lot like Grant.

By the time we were finished, it was just about ten o’clock. For some reason, the mindless bureaucracy of the police department had surprised me. Almost four hours of repeating things, filling out forms, sitting, waiting. God. As a small-business guy, I suppose I should have expected it.

At least the three creeps were still at the station. They were going to be arraigned in the morning, so I was hoping like hell they enjoyed their night’s stay at the Hotel Clink.

My current challenge was that I just knew Henry was going to balk at following me home. But I’d come up with what I thought was a workable solution, so I was feeling quite a bit better as we were cleared to leave.

“Grant,” I whispered to my nephew as we walked out the station doors. “I’ll take Shawn home. You ride with Henry. That way he’ll have to go back to our house.”

“But—”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Listen. I need you to do this for me, ’kay?”

With a longing glance at Shawn, Grant slowly nodded. “Okay, Uncle Nick. But you’ve got to get her home before eleven. That’s when her dad’s supposed to get home from some meeting or something.”

“I know.” Grant had told me that if we got her home before that time, the father wouldn’t know about the events of tonight. That whole thing irked the shit out of me, but there was nothing I could do about it tonight. “We’ll see if there’s anything we can do to help them. We’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay?”

When he still hesitated, I leaned down to meet his gaze. “I promise.”

With a nod, he headed toward Henry’s car.

I almost laughed at the look on Henry’s face when Grant jumped in the front seat of the Mercedes. Even in the muted light of the parking lot—and through the windshield—I could see the disgruntled look. He had to know he’d been outmaneuvered. And by me: nonsmart guy!

“Mr. Shelton?” Shawn’s soft voice sounded behind me.

I turned. “Yeah, honey?”

“Do you…do you think that I could, um—”

I looked at her in concern as I unlocked the Volvo and opened the passenger door. “Everything okay?”

She settled into the seat, seeming tiny. The kid was probably about five feet one or two, I’d have guessed; she just seemed smaller. Maybe it was the way she kind of hid from the world. At least, in the couple times I’d seen her, that had been my impression.

She still hadn’t answered—other than to give me her address—by the time I pulled out of the lot. “What did you want to ask me?” I flicked on the heated seats and turned the temperature to seventy-six.

“Grant said—” She got quiet again.

“Uh-huh?” I steered the car toward Sheridan Road, where all the lakefront palaces were. I grimaced. Just went to show that money didn’t mean squat when it came to having a shitty home life.

“Um, he said I could—that you would maybe—”

“That I’d what?” I flicked on the radio, tuning to the news station. “I’m going to check the latest forecast, okay?” If it was going to dump more snow on us, I wanted to be ready.

“ThatIcouldcomestaywithyou.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Snowflakes were starting to come down again, heavily. I sighed. Looked like I’d be out in the plow in the morning. “Wait. What?” I braked, pulling the car to the side of the road.

She shrugged but kept her attention on the roadway. “Grant told me once that if I wanted, maybe you would let me come stay with you.”

“You didn’t just ask to come live with me, did you?” I could not have heard that. “You have a house.”

“I know.” Her voice was small.

“I-I know that there might be, um, issues at home.” Christ, how did I handle this?

“Issues. Right.” She snuck a look at me, her lips twisted.

Feeling helpless, I rested my left hand on the steering wheel as I angled to face her. “I’m not sure what…what you think I can do.”

Her shoulders lifted in a sigh. “Honestly?” Shawn shifted on the leather seat, her gaze touching mine for a moment. “I just want to…to be able to go to sleep at night and…and not worry.”

God, her face was sad.
Jesus!
“Shawn. I want to help you. I do.” I really did. “But you can’t just come and live with me. With us. Your parents won’t let you. Can’t let you. Will they?”

Another shrug, this one irritable. “Maybe my mom would.” She didn’t really sound like she believed that.

Boy, oh boy. I chewed my lip. “Um. Okay.” I could feel my neck muscles tightening. “Do you— Should we go ask your mom if—just for tonight—it’s okay if you stay with us?”

For the first time I could see something positive on this teenage girl’s face. Hope. It was hope. “Really?”

I shoved the car into gear. “Well. It’s going to be up to her. She might say no. What if she says no?”
Shit
. Had I just given that hope for no damned reason? That could be worse than what the kid already faced. “And it’s just for tonight. You know that, right?”

“Yeah.” The light in her face dimmed. “I know.”

I pulled the car through the gated entrance to the Ginsburg home.
Shit
. I should have called it an estate. There was a—I think it was called a gatehouse—on the right, and a big parking court. Oh, and there were five, yes, five garage bays attached to a honking big stone house. Beyond the structure was Lake Michigan. I knew it was there, of course, but it was eerie not to see anything past the home. The darkness and lowering clouds masked everything. “Wow.”

“I know, right?” She sounded like a typical teenager right then. Kind of gave me hope of my own.

“Just what does your dad do for a living, anyway?”

“He’s the CEO of Grayson Labs.” She shoved open her door and got out.

“No way.” My eyes got big. Outside of Renton Technologies, Grayson was one of the biggest employers in Lake County. “Holy shit.” Just how the fuck was I supposed to go up against somebody like that?

I watched from the car as Mrs. Ginsburg met Shawn at the huge front entry. Maybe she’d been keeping a lookout for her daughter to come home.

I trudged up to the door, dreading the conversation to come. The two females were hugging each other, the mom talking rapidly.
God.

Shawn’s mother spotted me, waving me in. “Please, Mr. Shelton. Come in.”

The door shut behind me with a loud
click
. I yanked off my knit hat.

“Thank you so much for bringing Shawn home safely. She called me from the police station just a little while ago. I was so worried when I heard what had happened.” Mrs. Ginsburg sent a chiding look toward her daughter. “But you should have called me immediately. I would have come down there.”

Shifting from foot to foot, Shawn didn’t look at her mom.

“What’s going to happen with those boys? It’s the same one from before, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah. The same creep, Jeff Hastings, plus two of his freak buddies.”

“Are they— Will they stay in jail?” She bit her lip.

“Boy. I don’t know, but I sure as heck hope so. The cops said they won’t get in front of the judge until tomorrow, so at least they’ll be in jail overnight. As for what happens next, I’m not sure.”

“I see.”

This was the second time I’d seen Mrs. Ginsburg. That afternoon at the school, I’d begun to have suspicions about what might be going on in this house. Now, tonight, in the bright light of the entry, I could see that she looked nervous and worn. I had no idea how old she was, but I would hazard a guess she was younger than she looked, just based on Shawn’s age.

“Well, anyway.” Mrs. Ginsburg smoothed a hand down her pants. “Shawn, you should probably head upstairs before your father gets home.” There was a definite warning in that statement.

Shawn raised her head. “Momma, I asked Mr. Shelton if I could stay at his house tonight.”

Mouth open, Mrs. Ginsburg’s gaze moved between us. “What?”

I started to speak, but Shawn beat me to it. “I don’t want Daddy to know what happened tonight.” She clenched her fists. “And…and I don’t want to see him anymore. Ever.”

Whoa
. There it was.

“Shawn.” Mrs. Ginsburg rushed into speech. “You shouldn’t talk like that in front of…well, in front of people.” Laughing nervously, she reached out to brush her fingers through Shawn’s hair. When Shawn jerked back, Mrs. Ginsburg looked…crushed.

“I mean it, Momma. You can stay here if you want, but I don’t want to be here. Live here.” The soft tenor of her voice was in contradiction to the defiant body stance she’d adopted. Her feet were spread, and she’d squared her shoulders. Kind of reminded me of basic training right then.

I jerked my focus back when her mother spoke. “Shawn!”

The lady looked like she was about to weep. I reached out a hand, not knowing at all what the hell I could do to make a damned bit of difference. But Shawn, now that she’d broken her silence, seemed hell-bent on getting everything out.

“You let Daddy hit you. You let Daddy hit me. Grant and—and Mr. Shelton know how to protect me.” Suddenly she sobbed. “He hurts me, Momma. It hurts.” Tears started running down her cheeks.

“Oh, God.” I grabbed the kid, hugging her tightly. “Jesus, Shawn.” I glared at Mrs. Ginsburg. Maybe it wasn’t nice. Maybe it wasn’t the right reaction. But damn it, the kid was in pain.

The weight of the world seemed to settle on the woman’s shoulders. She just folded down into the antique-looking chair along the wall. I figured she’d taken Shawn’s comments the same way I had.
They can protect me like you won’t—or can’t
. A hand came up to cover her mouth, and she began to cry. That’s when I noticed the bruises at her wrist.

Shawn was stiff in my arms, silent sobs hiccupping every so often. I ran a consoling hand along her back, patting her awkwardly. Lifting my wrist to check the time, I cleared my throat. “Um. Ladies. Whatever we’re going to do, we should do it. It’s ten thirty.” No way did I want to have a confrontation with the dad. Would probably make it worse for these two.

Although, come to think of it, if he came after me, maybe I could have him up on charges?
Get him out of the house?

“You know,” I started to say.

“You’re right, Mr. Shelton.” Mrs. Ginsburg stood up suddenly, straightening her shoulders. “You’re right.” Wiping away a tear, she stepped closer. “Shawn, go get your things. Quickly now. Get a pair of pajamas and your toothbrush and some clothes for tomorrow.” At her daughter’s openmouthed look, she managed a broken smile. “I’ll deal with your father.”

“Momma. Are you sure?” Now Shawn was the hesitant one.

Nodding rapidly, Mrs. Ginsburg waved her toward the stairs. “Yes. Go.”

Shawn didn’t waste time after that. She pounded up the stairs, making a hell of a racket for such a petite little thing.